Unlikely Revelations
by MyPorcelain'Bones
Summary: Left to die, Harry is saved by a man claiming to know him.  What he doesn't know is: the man he thinks he's falling for is actually Voldemort.  And what will he do about Ginny, who he's been seeing for months?  His life is about to get complicated. HIATUS
1. Man in the Snow

**Author's Note**: Just a random idea. Feedback is GREATLY appreciated. Really. Reviews make my whole day, and keep me smiling for hours. Lame much? Yeah, I know. But it's true :D.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my imagination. Credit belongs to J.K Rowling. Neither do I own the quotes you will find in my chapters.

**WARNING**: May involve dark themes. As well as some coarse language, adult situations, and slash. (Basically, boyxboy.) Rating might change later on for sexual content. Haven't decided. This is the only time I'm posting warning, so don't message me to complain! Onward. Enjoy :D!

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_We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy _

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**UNLIKELY REVELATIONS**

**Chapter 1**

_**MyPorcelain'Bones**_

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Harry lay in the crisp snow, body appearing like a paralyzed snow angel. His eyes met the sky, as white as the matter beneath him, and did not look away. So peaceful this was. . . and he prayed death would come soon, although he wasn't so sure he would mind if it lingered a bit before taking him in it's arms. He thought it quite funny how he had overlooked the mere beauty in simple things until now. In a way, it gave him new eyes; and a keen ability to find pleasure in things that should be pleasurable, and appreciated.

He sort of felt the urge to sit up and extend his fingers to the trees enclosing him, feel the sensation of the pine needles brushing across his frozen fingertips.

Harry decided not to ponder how his life could have went on. . .if he had not been brought to this place. This place that repelled his magic, leaving him helpless to do anything much. Anything at all. However, again, he didn't quite mind.

Quite.

A bitter feeling knotted his stomach.

A flash of the wonderfl people he had come to know, who had taken him in the safety of their arms and made him feel so secure; like he was worth something more than he had ever been told he was.

Hagrid. He had great appreciation for the big burly man who he had come to think of as his first true friend.

Ron. Ah, merlin, how he would miss his dearest mate. They had been through a lot together, whether it be something actually meaningful or just mischief. Harry hoped that the lad would be able to get along well enough without him.

Hermoine. . . they hadn't been on good terms in the past few weeks. Actually, they'd avoided each other, and it had been torturous watching her wander off to try and find someone else to sit with at lunch. He hadn't wanted to make Ron choose, because everyone knew what his decision would be. So Hermoine had taken it into her own hands and just hadn't joined them.

Harry had felt terrible, though he had tried to keep reminding himself that for the moment they hated each other. But honestly. How was it his fault that she could hardly hide her contempt for Ginny, all because Ginny and him were together? She had never confessed to her infatuation with him, no. But it was obvious. Hermoine was a tough girl, but not so much lately when it came to Harry.

Anywho, Harry hoped that she would recognize how much he had felt for her. . . even though in the end Ginny had won his heart. He hoped she would reazlie how much he cared about her and highly he had come to think about her and how absolutely much he appreciated her and would miss her when he was gone. And he let himself chance at the tiny bit of possibility that Hermoine would miss him also. He did not wish for her to grieve, no. He wanted her to smile because she had the opportunity to reserve a place in his heart and mean something, have a positive impact on his life. That is what he wished.

And oh, Dumbledore. His godfather.

Harry's heart panged hurtfully at the thought of never being able to see the old man who had come to be like a parent to him again. Dumbles had seen so much in him, even when he'd seen nothing, and he would eternally be grateful for the courage and strength he had provided him with.

So many others as well he would miss. . . even Severus.

Okay, not Severus. But still.

Harry even thought momentarily that he would miss the spiteful banter between himself and Malfoy. Now there was a shock!

If he could have moved from his paralyzed state, Harry would have smiled gently and closed his eyes, relishing in the sheer bliss that his surroundings brought. He found it quite ironic that something that could repel his magic, therefore any help he could have offered himself, could bring him so much joy.

_Quite _ironic, yes.

The wind picked up, tousling his already messy hair.

Harry imagined it was Ginny's fingers running through his locks like had occured so many times before.

He thought perhaps he would miss her most, even though she had been in his life for the shortest time. She had brought him the feeling of love in another way than simply out of friendship. She was his partner, partly why he woke up at all in the morning. . . Oh yes! How he would miss that redheaded girl of his. . .

Or did death strip that title from him? He thought it would.

At least he knew she would miss him. . .

Enough of his ramblings! Thinking was too painful. . .and he wanted to go out in peace.

_"Harry. . ._" the wind seemed to whisper, drifting through his ears. The white sky seemed to smile at him, and he felt as though he were high. Not that he knew what that felt like. . .just a suspicion.

Oh, he was such a bloody liar.

_"Harry. . ." _he heard again, and couldn't help but notice it sounded too much like a human voice. His ears had decieved him; this could be no trick of the wind. . .or was it?

Bliss coiled around him and he couldn;t exactly care.

"Harry." Now it didn't do anything for him. The voice that had once sounded so. . . sensual. . .now sounded firm to him.

"Harry Potter!" Now he was positive he was not alone, this was not the wind screwing with his ears. But who was here? And it was hardly as if he could speak. . .how could he answer, really? Let alone move to go and find who was speaking his name?

Then suddenly, he wasn't alone in the snow. Someone was kneeling beside him, eyes hard, but concern undoubtedly pooling in them. The emotion grew when whomever discovered his unfortunate perdicament.

"For the love of Merlin, Harry. . .what have you gotten yourself into? Coming to Antarctica? How could you not know it repels magic. . .little bugger." The last comment was more of an irritated grumble than anything.

The figure shifted above him, so he was in Harry's view. Confusion swept over him. Was he supposed to know this man? Because he wasn't coming to mind. . . How did he even know his name, or where to find him? It startled him, and he wanted to get away. Part of him didn't want to be saved. His bleak future had started to look promising.

The man, who Harry now noticed was quite good looking, pulled him into his arms and stood, beeginning to carry him away.

Harry did not take in the beautiful sights around him, his mind too focused on the situation at hand. It seemed so surreal. This had to be a dream. . . What else could explain it logically?

Merlin, he had an unfortunate tendency to think too much.

"Trust me, Potter," the man said lowly, a whisper that caressed his mind.

Those three words had no relevance whatsoever to what was happening, seemed to come from nowhere. . .but for some reason

Harry trusted this person a lot, almost passionately. He didn't take them time to think of how much this frightened him. Or where he was headed to, or why, or anything.

Anything at all.

Just hung on those words like a religious devotion.

Harry just didn't seem to realize how much he shouldn't have.

He did not know he was in the enemy's arms.

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Review please? Thank you :)!


	2. Too Close For Comfort

**Author's Note**: So. Second chapter. Reviews are like oxygen to me. . .I'd appreciate it if you'd take a minute to drop one for me. It encourages me to keep writing. So please? I know writing is about more than feedback, but it does help. Anywho. Onward! :D

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the following quote, nor do I own Harry Potter.

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_Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere_

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**UNLIKELY REVELATIONS**

**Chapter 2**

_**MyPorcelain'Bones**_

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Hermoine jumped, startled, as a hand came crashing down on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around abruptly. Her eyes widened as she took in the form of her former friend, Ron Weasley. Well, she wasn't quite sure what they were. It had been a given that in any instance he would choose Harry over her. . .and it hadn't hurt, because it was just a fact. Besides, what reason did he have to side with her? Since they had first met that fateful day on the train to Hogwarts she had been, quite truthfully, a bitch to him. It hadn't, therefore, exactly come as the biggest shock ever.

As their eyes locked, it seemed momentarily that it was only them there, and each and evrey thing around them was nonexistent. But then Ron shook his head subtly, clearing his throat and not even stopping to properly address her before shoving a newspaper in her face.

She swatted his hand away, wondering what was the meaning of this.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, and as Ron did not even blink at her harshness, it seemed like old times. Like nothing had ever happened between them. . . if anything had happened.

Did choosing one friend out of loyalty make you an enemy to the one left in the cold?

"Look," Ron insisted, holding the paper at a more decent place before her eyes.

"What am I supposed to be looking at, exactly?"

Ron pointed in the corner of the paper although it was out of his eyes view, as if he'd memorized the exact placing of the article.

"Bloody hell," he whispered. "Don't you understand, Mione? . . .Harry's missing."

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-Regular POV-

The cottage was quite cozy, exuding a warmth and homey-ness that he couldn't place. It was furnished simply, a decent couch with a matching recliner and lamp; nothing expensive or lavish. However, there was nothing Harry could find that would key him in on the life of his rescuer, or how he knew him. No pictures adorned the walls, no belongings that appeared as if they could belong to someone other. This place was nothing much. A few pieces of furniture; the necessities. That was all.

Currently, whoever had saved him was in the kitchen fixing him a cup of tea. It had always soothed him. . .and the man seemed to know that, which just gave Harry goosebumps and the idea that he was losing his mind. Why could he not tell who this man was, or recall how he'd met him?

The dose of whatever his attacker had given him had worn off shortly ago, and Harry could now move, but not much. He figured that whomever had drugged him had thought that he'd have been dead by the time he could move about once more.

Growing quickly weary of the living room, which did not even acquire a television, he decided to explore. Now, there wasn't exactly anything _to _explore, but moving was better than doing nothing.

Standing from the recliner, it took Harry a bit of limping to get into a decently tolerable rythm of walking. The thick quilt that the man had placed on him hung around his shoulders and made walking ever more diffucult; the thing was probably close to five pounds of fabric. His thin body was drowning in it. Still, he'd appreciated it. After being in the cold for so long, his body had stung fiercely, and Harry pondered how it was strange that two such opposite things-ice and fire-could have the same effect.

A closed door caught Harry's attention. It was very suspicious, given the fact that the entryway to the kitchen and even the lew was open-not blocked off. (Harry prayed he would not get the urge to piss any time soon. Just the thought caused his cheeks to flare red in embarrassment.)

He limped over to the closed door, for some reason insanely curious as to what lay beyond its wooden surface. It was perhaps mainly because it seemed so odd that it be the only thing so obviously blocked off from the rest of the tiny cottage.

His fingers grasped the glass doorknob, and just began to turn it slowly, as to not make noise-

"Wouldn't that be an invasion of privacy, Potter?" A deep voice asked, and soon after a much larger, more calloused hand placed itself over his own. Harry's breathing grew shallow and ragged as herealized he had been caught.

Damn it. . .he had not even thought about the fact that the man would be in the adjacent room. . .

Harry did not turn around; he was a bit afraid to. He did not know this man, although how the man had spoken to him would surely suggest so. . .therefore it felt even more wrong that he had been about to encroach on a total stranger's private space. . .

"I. Well, you see. . ."

"Yes?" The man's breath could be felt on the back of his neck, enticing subtle shivers from Harry. . .though he didn't know exactly why. This stranger seemd to have a peculiar effect on him. He made him feel things that he could not really explain; that not even Ginny had made him feel.

The thought startled and confused him.

"Harry," the man said, and grabbed him roughly by his shoulders, turning him abruptly around to face him. Their bodies were so close. . .too close for Harry's comfort. T_is is no way to comfort a boy you just rescued from death_, Harry couldn't help but think. Why was this person being so. . .strange?

Harry's lips parted, causing him to look as if he was ditzy or such. He could have even sworn he had seen the man's eyes dart down to his lips for a split second-which would be very illogical of him, but still-but the movement was too swift for him to be positive.

He was not sure whether or not it was his mind playing with him, but he thought he detected the man's body shift closer yet to his, almost pressed firmly against him.

Suddenly the awkward (for him anyway) mood shattered, as he slipped past the man and came to stand behind him, soon face to face as the other was forced to turn around. One eyebrow was raised in confusion, surprise, wonder?

Harry giggled nervously.

"Uh. . .well, I'm Harry," he stuttered stupidly; that much was clearly already established.

When the stranger just stared at him, he wiped a hand across his forehead. "But. . .you know that. Right. . . ." Then he suddenly cheered, grinning widely, an attempt to be friendly and come across as if this whole situation hadn't just freaked him out.

"Do you care to enlighten me as to what yours is?" The man just stared at him blankly, seemingly not registering anything.

Harry coughed nervously, eyes darting around the room so as to occupy himself, as well as be given a nice distraction.

Then out of nowhere Harry's rescuer shook himself, asking in a daze, "Sorry, had you said something?"

"Um, your name? I don't plan on referring to you as man or stranger. . ."

"Oh, right," he said brusquely. Then he paused, as if he needed to actually think, which Harry found curious. Had he truly forgotten his name? Who _did _that?

Harry couldn't hold it in-he giggled, and that fact made him somehow laugh harder, until he was holding his sides to control his shaking.

However, he stopped quickly upon seeing the man's stern glare cast heavily on him.

"What do you find so amusing, Potter?"

Arry scratched his head. "You forgot your name?" It was meant as a statement, but came out as a weak question.

The stranger shook his head.

"No. No, it's Del."

"Oh. Well, pleasure to meet you?" He was fumbling like a complete, utter fool. . .and there was nothing that he could do. He felt unusually uncomfortable, unsure what to do now that he wasn't all helpless and drugged up and shit.

"Skip the pleasantries; we need to talk."

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Hopefully my chapters will lengthen as the story progresses. Pleeease review for me? I know this wasn't the best. . .but still.

Thank you :)


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